


Lullaby Love

by araliya



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-05 22:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13397802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/araliya/pseuds/araliya
Summary: Basically, just sweetness.





	Lullaby Love

**Author's Note:**

> For this prompt: hello! could you write something cc that's very sweet with loads of fluff and sleepy/lazy boys? maybe they try to be intimate but are too tired so they end up just laughing and laying on each other, or maybe d is playing guitar for c and making up silly songs and making him laugh? just anything cute, whatever you can think of :) thanks a bunch! :)
> 
> *Title from Roo Panes' Lullaby Love. Listen to it, it's gorgeous.

“Oh my god, my _feet_.”

 

Darren groans in agreement, facedown in their comforter. His clothes are damp from the rain they got caught in on the way back to the house, and his hair sticks up in a spiky mess. Chris probably looks in a similar state of disarray- he can still feel the remnants of some unidentifiable glitter on his face.

 

“My _thighs_ ,” Darren complains, the words muffled by the pillowcase.

 

Chris falls on his back next to Darren, pushing at his arm reproachfully. “Okay, liar, your thighs are like _rocks_. There’s no way they’re sore.”

 

Darren lifts his face to stare at him blearily, and Chris laughs when he realises that his eyelashes have actually gotten _tangled_ , they’re that long. He reaches out to brush at them in a little butterfly kiss, and his efforts go to waste when Darren immediately buries his face in Chris’ arm.

 

“They’re sore because _I_ was doing something that required a little thigh exertion…”

 

Chris blushes beet red at the memory of their not-so PG activities in the grimy back room of the club, and he honestly can’t believe they did that.

 

“Darren, it’s your fault, only you would take me to a gay bar in the middle of buttfuck nowhere to _dance_.”

 

“And hook up in the back room,” Darren adds helpfully.

 

“That too.”

 

“The hooking up wasn’t actually on the agenda, I’m not some _floozy_.”

 

“Of course,” Chris says seriously, and Darren glares at him through his lashes.

 

“I’m not!” he insists. “You’re just very hard to resist.”

 

“Ooh, tell me more,” Chris preens, wiggling around to settle himself more comfortably on top of the covers.

 

“You don’t need me to tell you, Mister,” Darren says, propping himself up on an elbow to stare down at Chris. “You know perfectly well how damn sinful you look, what with your skintight jeans” he plucks at Chris’ black pants for emphasis, “and your shirt that’s actually _mine_.”

 

He strokes down the material with the tips of his fingers, and when Chris shivers involuntarily, Darren grins, a sparkle in his sleepy eyes. Chris knows the kiss is coming, and he closes his eyes, arm curving around Darren’s shoulders when he straddles his hips.

 

Darren’s lips soon grow distracted from Chris’ mouth, wandering across his jaw and down his neck, his fingers making slow work of the fiddly buttons on his shirt. The kisses grow lazier and become more like wet brushes against Chris’ skin, and he laughs fondly- right before Darren’s thighs wobble and then give way.

 

Chris makes a small _oof_ as Darren falls right on top of him, the heavy warm weight of him settling all over Chris’ body.

 

“Oh my god, D.”

 

“Sorry,” Darren says weakly into Chris’ shirt. “I would totally have continued but my thighs are actually killing me.”

 

Chris snorts into Darren’s hair, and wrinkles his nose when it tickles. “That’s fine. I was going to just lie there and let you do all the work anyway.”

 

“In the morning?”

 

“It’s a date.”

 

Darren grins at him deliriously, and then kisses Chris’ chest before rolling off slowly. “I think I’m just gonna go to sleep like this.”

 

“We haven’t brushed our teeth.”

 

“Do we have to?”

 

Chris rolls his eyes and heaves himself off the bed. “Dare, I don’t intend to own a pair of dentures, ever. Yes, we have to.”

 

Darren whines like a puppy, before reaching out an arm so that Chris can haul him up. When they get to the bathroom, Chris has to remind Darren several times that he has to actually _move_ the toothbrush around for any actual cleaning to happen, and when they get to bed, he has to stop him from diving in fully clothed.

 

Finally under the covers, legs tangled, Chris falls asleep, lips tingling from the memory of Darren’s toothpaste flavoured kisses.


End file.
